


Black, White, and Shades of Gray

by dannihowell (iguessicantry)



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Civil Rights Movement, F/F, Racism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-30
Updated: 2016-07-30
Packaged: 2018-07-27 14:51:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7622950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iguessicantry/pseuds/dannihowell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alternate Universe in which Philina Lester has fallen in love with her best friend, Danielle. Set in 1950's USA.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Black, White, and Shades of Gray

My name is Philina Michelle Lester. I am thirteen years old and I have a friend named Danielle who is twelve. She likes it when I play the piano that sits in the parlor. Grandma taught me to play when I was younger. She always said, “A young lady knows how to play piano and speaks French.”

Danielle’s name is French and that’s probably the only reason why she insisted that I teach her. I didn’t mind though. It was enjoyable watching her stumble over the words. 

I begin a hymn, one that I learned for choir. Daddy says I have the most beautiful voice he’s ever heard since my mama passed. I didn’t know her but I like to think she sings along from heaven. 

Danielle sits next to me on the bench while I play. Her mama died when she was just a baby, like me. We share that much in common. She’s prettier than me and calmer than me and I swear on a stack of bibles that her laugh can bring anything back to life. She sits close and I can see her dimples and long curls in my peripheral vision. My fingers glide along the keys and I open my mouth to sing. As I hit the chorus I feel her hands on my own so I stop playing to look at her. Then I feel her lips on me, kissing my own. “Mhm… Danielle!” There is only one thing I could say. “Jesus Christ.”

I slap my hand over my mouth because I’ve just used the lord’s name in vain. I didn’t realize until she kissed me again that calling his name wasn’t the problem here. It was calling hers.

***

Daddy stands at the pulpit and his voice is smooth and perfect. All the women in the parish absolutely adore him. I think it’s a little sick to be completely honest. Can you imagine? Women lusting after a preacher right in the middle of services. I try to ignore the way Missy Cunningham looks at him. She’s not much older than I am. She’s only a month over 17 and looking for a husband already. I hope she realizes my mama has his heart forever. Daddy told me that himself. So she can’t stop batting her eyelashes from behind her fan. 

Daddy and I live in the house right by the church. My grandma used to live with us too but she died when I was ten years old. I’m fifteen now, setting to be sixteen next month. Everyone’s talking about my coming out party. My Papa, my maternal grandfather, insisted that I get that largest coming out party in the county. I tried to tell him I didn’t want one but he said I was being ungrateful and that my mama had one when she was my age. I figure I owed it to her.

He finishes the sermon and church is over, for the parishioners at least. I go join him as he says departing words to the congregation as they leave. He shakes hands with Missy and I roll my eyes because she’s worn that ridiculous red lipstick that clearly wasn’t meant for Jesus. It takes an hour for everyone to leave, some staying behind to speak to my father at length about their personal problems. I’m aching to go home because I miss her already. Danielle doesn’t go to church with me. She goes to the Baptist church on the other side of town with her grandmother, a woman I call Belle. She’s been taking care of me since I was a baby. She works for us seven days a week without a day off on Sunday like it should be. It’s the day of rest, the Lord’s Day. Belle doesn’t complain though. She goes to church after we leave in the morning and comes back before we do.

In this town, we aren’t allowed to mix. Danielle and I are expressly forbidden from having the kind of relationship we do. We’re the best of friends but she’s a little mixed up; white, black and Cherokee. She doesn’t really look anything but white but the entire town knows and makes sure she stays in her place. I don’t care though. She’s beautiful in my eyes.

It’s a quarter to five when Daddy lets me go back home. I’m greeted with the scent of pork roast and corn on the cob. Belle sees me come in and tells me, “Go wash up now. Supper’s on the table.”

“Is she here?” I ask ignoring her.

“Yes’m, she’s sitting in the kitchen with me, reading the book you gave her.”

“Good,” I say heading to the bathroom upstairs to wash my hands.

When I come back downstairs, there she is smiling up at me as I leave the staircase.

“Philina?”

“Yes?”

“Are you gonna tell me?”

“No. Finish the book first.”

“I can’t wait any longer. I’ll be your best friend,” she bargains.

“You are my best friend.”

“Um… I’ll give you a kiss,” she whispers, fearing that Belle might hear.

“She finds out that her husband was dead the entire time,” I tell her, giving into her.

“Thank you,” she says. She looks around the corner to make sure that no one can see us. She caresses my cheek, smiles a little, glancing between my eyes and my lips. She kisses me sweetly for just a few seconds and pulls away. “Girls, come and eat before I take a switch to you both. Don’t think I won’t do it,” Belle calls from the kitchen.

“Coming!” we shout back. Danielle squeezes my hand before we go our separate ways. She goes into the kitchen and I go into the dining room to eat dinner with my father.  

***

A young man came here yesterday, asking for my hand in marriage. His name was Adam Littlefield, and Daddy thinks he’s pretentious. His father owns most of the town, everything except for the church. Can you believe he tried to buy the land from us? Disgusting. You can’t buy your way into heaven. No sir!

I don’t know exactly why he came. I’m not particularly pretty or charming. We haven’t any money or anything of value except for my Grandma’s jewels. They aren’t worth much. It’s her wedding ring and a pearl necklace. 

Danielle was sitting next to me on the porch swing when he came. She was supposed to be helping Belle in the kitchen but I made her stay with me. He came stepping, like he knew he had me already. Danielle took her head off my shoulder, getting quiet as he approached. The next thing I heard was, “Where’s Pastor Lester?”

“Why? What do you want?” I asked him. I never liked Littlefield. When we were younger he always put gum in my hair because he sat behind me all through grade school.

“Well, I came to ask him something. To strike a deal perhaps?”

“What is it?”

“You wanna marry me, girl?”

“Marry _who_?”

“Come on. I know you heard me the first time. You know, you should be jumping at the chance.”

I sat there stunned. The nerve! The absolute nerve! Before I could tell him off, Danielle said quietly, with her sweet nature, “Miss Philina, don’t do it.”

“Shut your mouth. How dare you speak while I’m talking!” he shouted at her. She bit her lip and hung her head low. 

“Don’t talk to her like that!”

“Are you— Are you sticking up for a Nigra? Well, I’ll be…”

“Yes, I am! Leave before I tell my daddy to get his shot gun.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” he growled. I stood up off the swing taking Danielle with me and went inside the house. I heard him shout after us, “I still want to speak to your father. You’re a lil’ feisty but you’ll do.”

Daddy heard all the commotion from the office in the church and came over to ask about it. I couldn’t handle the thought of marrying that jackass and I hoped my father could see through his money. We struggled just like any other family, sometimes the tithe wasn’t enough. I took her into my bedroom upstairs to get away from the voices that could be deciding my entire life. It’s 1952 and I can’t say nothing. I can vote but I still have to do as he says. 

“I’m sorry I made him mad at you,” I heard a little voice say. “He probably won’t marry you now.”

“I don’t want to get married. I’m only eighteen!”

“But everyone will call you an ole’ spinster if you wait too long,” she replied. 

“Who cares? Littlefield might have more money than the governor of this entire state, but all the money in Virginia won’t make me marry him.”

“Good,” she says with a sly smile. 

“Good,” I say taking her into a much needed embrace. “Anyone talking to Belle about you yet?”

“There’s one.”

“Oh?” I murmur in surprise.

“Mhm, he’s a farmer but he has a fine house,” she mumbles but it seems somewhat rehearsed like she’s heard someone say it over and over again.

“Oh.”

I kissed her hair as she held onto me. It seems we were being ripped apart one way or another. My heart aches. 

***

There’s a man in town named Mr. Lowell who lives by himself. He’s a quiet man but always waves a shy hello when you call to him. He’s unmarried and his family doesn’t live in the district. It’s strange. It’s strange because he’s admittedly good looking and young, very young. Surely a man like him must have women fawning over him. He’s gentle and doesn’t show off. He has money. I know this because he drives the nicest car, ford’s latest model. The question of why isn’t he married crossed many of our minds. It soon became clear. 

Today, while I was walking from the general store on our main street I saw him with another man. He had dark black hair, wore a leather jacket and perched himself against his motor cycle. He looked like he came straight out of a movie. Everyone crowded around them, wanting to see the bike up close. I watched from afar, I don’t like crowds that much. I had a basket full of foodstuffs to take home so I went about my way.

 I’m sitting in the kitchen with Belle and Danielle who are currently arguing over what to serve for dinner. It’s quite amusing.

“Don’t tell me what to do, girl. You can’t even cook.”

“Yes I can!”

“Hard biscuits and that’s it. You can’t even make a pot o’ grits. I don’t know how you’ll keep a man.” I snort at the comment and Danielle rolls her eyes. 

“Did you bring the eggs like I asked Miss Philina?”

“I put ‘em in the Frigidaire.”

“They ain’t in here,” she points out. 

“Oh, I’m sorry Belle.”

“Now, how did you forget? I had Danielle write the list for you.” Belle can’t read or write so she has Danielle do all her writing for her.

“I was distracted.” I explain, “Mr. Lowell was in town today with a very good looking young man. He had a motorcycle. There was a huge crowd. Everyone had to see it.”

“I’m sure that’s what everyone was lookin’ at,” she chuckles.

“What do you mean by that Belle?”

“Nothin’.”

I look at Danielle, who stifling her laughter and ask her, “What is it?”

She mouths to me, “Not now,” sitting down demurely at the kitchen table with me. 

After dinner, I take Danielle to the back of the church so that she can tell what’s so funny about Mr. Lowell. It’s clear that she won’t tell me if Belle’s around. 

“Tell me.”

“They say he’s funny.”

“And?”

“You aren’t gettin’ it,” she sighs. 

“That man you saw today…”

“Yeah?”

“They say they’re together… romantically.”

“What?!”

She laughs lightly. “Can you imagine?”

“No. I don’t know how they— never mind.”

“He’s moving in, you know? They’re going to share the house. Lowell’s sayin’ his friend’s payin’ rent but we all know he ain’t.”

“Is it that easy?”

She looks at me like I’ve suddenly sprouted wings and asks, “Easy?”

“To just live with another man like that? Lovin’ another man like that? I wish we could do that.”

She nods and we both think about it for a bit. If I keep her with me, everyone will just think she works for me. But a cold wind blows over me and I lose my train of thought. 

It’s Sunday morning when it happens. I’m at church gate and when Mr. Lowell passes, I wave to him and he waves back. My father grabs my arms and tells me, “I don’t want to see you speaking to him ever again. Understand me?”

His voice is terrifying and I can’t figure out why he’s so angry so I say, “Yes, Daddy.”

His sermon this morning makes my heart feel like it’s going to jump out of my skin. He’s telling the story of Sodom and Gomorrah but not the way he usually tells it. I know he’s talking about Mr. Lowell. Danielle explained to me the inner workings of a relationship like theirs though I still don’t know how she knows this. It feels like he’s boring his eyes straight through my chest. Does he know? 

Dear God, does he know?

***

I come back from my teachers’ college in Richmond one summer and I am 20 and she’s so pretty now, so grown up and not so lanky anymore. Danielle comes with my father to the train station and I can tell she wants to hug me but she can’t. Southern towns…

She has her hair on her shoulders, the curls sitting so perfect. She smiles and I can’t help it. I put down my suitcase and pull her into a hug. I missed her. Lord, I missed her. Daddy says something about Belle having supper waiting and soon we’re on our way home.

We pass the city center and there’s a large crowd protesting something.

“What’s going on here?”

“Oh just some people talking about integrating the schools. They say separate is not equal.”

“Oh… Times are changin’, aren’t they?”

“For the worst, darlin’.”

I see Danielle looking out the window and she looks especially sad.

Later that night after dinner, she follows me to my room and we start talking.

“I’m thinking of leaving here. I wanna go up North,” she tells me. Suddenly my room is too hot and the windows just won’t open wide enough. What does she mean she’s leaving? Leaving me?

“If I leave, I live a better life. No one up there knows about me. They’ll all think I’m white. Things aren’t getting better for us.”

I sit down on my bed and grab her hands. “Yes, they are!”

“Not fast enough. Philina, it ain’t safe here. You know what happened to my mama. I’m gettin’ to be that same age and the men, they say things to me. They think I ain’t worth nothin’.” Danielle’s mama died giving birth to her but she knows the story of her conception and it’s one of the strangest things. It is strange someone so beautiful, so kind and so divine could be created in a moment of pure evil, unfiltered hate and downright disgust.

“But—but…”

“The only thing left to do is get married so they stop but they’d just spit at my children,” she tells me in harsh whisper. She’s angry and I don’t blame her one bit. I know the way the boys from both races used to tease her. “And I don’t wanna be with a man that way.”

“I know. I know but—“

She puts her soft hands on my face and holds me in place as she kisses me sweetly. I haven’t been kissed like that in months, not since Christmas time when I had my winter break.

“What if I come with you?” I bargain. “What if we run away together? Just you and me?”

“You would leave every one behind? What about your daddy? He loves you so much.”

I hadn’t thought about that. I do love him and he’s getting older. “I can’t believe you’d leave Belle behind,” I tell her in retort. If anyone needs Danielle more than me it’s Belle.

“I don’t wanna leave her. I don’t!”

“It looks like we aren’t going anywhere.”

She gets up of the bed and storms over to the door, looking like she’s set to leave. “Looks like…”

“Don’t be mad at me,” I plead with her.

“I am mad at you!”

“Why? For talking some sense into you?”

“Yes! I wanted to do something fun and reckless and I want to live. There’s nothing here for me. They all hate me.”

“I don’t hate you.”

“You’ve been gone for months, Philina!”

“Well, I’m here to stay. Listen here,” I start. “I’m gonna get a job teaching and I’m gonna get my own apartment and you’ll come live with me. Okay?”

“And what will I do? I can’t live off you like that.”

“You just be a good little wife,” I giggle, trying so hard to lift her spirits. I don’t like it when she’ sad. It reminds me of when were seven and the boys has called her names and threw mud at her. We ran home just to have her run off in the trees to escape the torment. I found her a few minutes later and she clung to me because she had gotten herself lost in the forest and she thought no one would ever find her. The boys are full grown now and they have no respect for colored women, no matter how many of them suckled on their breasts when their own mothers couldn’t be bothered. “Everything will be okay. I promise.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

***

“Listen here, Missy!” Daddy shouts at me. “He is a nice young man and you will give him a chance.”

“Well, I don’t like him!” I shout back from my spot on the sofa.

“You’re gonna end up an old spinster. I knew I should never let you go to that college. You came back with all these _modern_ ideas and now I don’t know what to do with you.” He starts pacing in front of me, rubbing his temples like he has a headache.

“I don’t need to get married, Daddy! I can—“

“You are already twenty five. What are you waiting on?”

“Love,” I state simply.

He shakes his head then looks down at me. “That can come later.”

“Did you love my mama?” I ask quickly. I know he did. I know it.

He smiles fondly at her memory. “Yes, dearly.”

“From the moment you met her?”

“Yes, but she—I – It’s not always like that, darlin’. Sometimes we take what we can get.”

“Are you telling me that I am not worthy enough of love? Am I not good enough, Daddy?”

“No. I would never say that.”

“But you think that don’t you? Don’t you?!”

“Baby girl, please—,”

“Let me tell you something. Someone does love me! I love them with _every_ bit of myself.”

I storm out the front door before he can reply. I pray to God he doesn’t ask me about this again.

***

I’m walking through town one day with Danielle by my side and we’re going shopping at the local super market. It is 1958 and I have been teaching now for four years in a small kindergarten. This year we accepted our first black child and it was quite a struggle every morning with protesters standing at our gates, scaring the little boy half to death.

Normally, she would do the shopping herself but she’s a little more skittish since the incident. She lives with me in a small apartment I rent near the school. My coworkers wonder how I can afford a live in maid as a single woman and I tell them my grandfather’s fortune supports me. They laugh and say I’m a southern belle. I won’t tell them that she is everything to me and I would not live without her. She works too, sometimes as a seamstress at the large retailer.

About three weeks ago, she was caught in the rain and the bus hadn’t come so she walked the two miles back to our place. I worried and fretted when night came and she still wasn’t home. The next morning at dawn I heard a scratching at the front door and someone calling my name.

When I saw her… God help me, it was the saddest thing I think will ever see. The only thing she told me was, “It hurts.”

A man had taken her into the bushes on her walk home and when we reported it to the sheriff, a man I had known since birth, no one in that damned police station reacted. They wrote down the details, though I’m certain if I saw the paper there would be a crude drawing instead an account of the whole thing. She didn’t even want to say anything. Now she clings to me.

***

Danielle’s left me but she’s left behind a child, a little girl. It has been five years since she was raped. No one ever cared when it had happened. But when her stomach started to grow, my father told me people were gossiping. They called her a whore and jezebel but I called her honey and sweetheart when she cried into my bosom.

The child, whom I named Mary, is five years old and she calls me Mama. We live in New York now and one day, she asked me why she didn’t have a daddy. I asked her if she needed one and she replied, “No.”

“That’s why.”

The night she was born, Danielle held my hand and wipe her forehead. It went on for hours and quite suddenly there was the clear ringing of an infant’s cry, loud and resonant like a church bell. The nurse handed me the baby when she was all cleaned up and I cooed at her. “Danielle, she’s perfect. Just perfect. A blessed little angel,” I informed her mother. When I went to hand baby to her, her eyes rolled to the back of her head and her lips steadily turned blue. There was a rush of nurses and doctors and then she was dead. They said her mother died that way too. Belle said something like, “She was never meant to carry a child. They were too weak, her and her mama.”

I moved and left everything behind except Mary. She would have a better life if I had anything to say about it. Our town would ridicule her for having Danielle as a mother. I lied, telling everyone she was mine and we needed a new start. They looked into the face of the blue-eyed rosy cheeked baby and didn’t question me.

At bedtime, I tell her made up stories about a princess named Danielle who lived in a lovely castle. I tell her Danielle had a lovely friend named Princess Mary and she always took care of her and loved her.

“Did Princess Danielle and Princess Mary live happily ever after, Mama?” she asks me one night. I kissed her forehead, before I whisper, “Forever and ever.”

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on tumblr  
> [danni-howell](https://danni-howell.tumblr.com/)


End file.
